


Good boy!

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: The three-headed hound of the Underworld is a most fearsome beast, as liable to snap a hand off as to so much as look at the owner of said hand.Unless, of course, the pets are offered by the prince...or one other.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 125





	Good boy!

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I saw a prompt for Pat interacting with Cerberus I just had to write something (he had 9 dogs at one point! 9! The lucky sod!)

Very little can surprise Patroclus these days (or nights). It comes with the territory of being dead and somewhat free to wander so long as he remains in the splendour of Elysium. If he doesn't encounter a particular shade known for amazing feats in life, he'll hear the rumours of them. If he thought he knew all there was to know about the gods, something new will crop up and send his eyebrows shooting for his hairline in disbelief (usually this is due to Zagreus casually mentioning his relatives on Olympus as one might their friends, with the most recent gossip he's heard from one about another). If there's a new creature causing mayhem and bloodshed for the mortals still trapped in the coil of life, he's sometimes in the wrong place at the wrong time when it's felled, catching a glimpse of it beyond the gates barring shades from Asphodel. And he'd once thought the skeletal visage of the Lernean Hydra slamming into the gates in its effort to snap down on _him_ with wickedly sharp fangs the length of an arm was horrific, hah! What a fool.

That's not to say he's _never_ surprised, oh no, there's been a barrel of _fun_ ever since the prince first tottered into his chamber with more blood _on_ him than _in_ him, cheery smile dimmed by pain and death swift on his burning heels. Learning of Achilles' appointment as guard in the house of Hades, for one. Meeting the _actual living, breathing son of Hades_ , for two. Encountering Lord Death himself and having a rather pleasant chat with him about said son of Hades and the frustration of his many escape attempts and frightful disregard for his own safety. Receiving an invite to _lunch_ with king Theseus and the Bull of Minos (Asterius, his name is Asterius)... and the resulting headache from the king's never-ending posturing and overly loud manner of speech. And the many, _many_ times he and his fellow shades have been called upon to protect Elysium from incoming hostilities from Asphodel while the Hydra is indisposed and reconstituting itself. _Gorgons_. Just the thought of them has him shuddering, a reminder he is free, still, of their stone cages.

But there are _those_ interruptions to the daily monotony and solitude of his afterlife, and then there is _this_. A giant, snarling beast twice the height of Asterius in shoulders _alone_ , three heads upon those shoulders and all six eyes fixed with deadly accuracy upon his form where he sits by the river Lethe, motionless in his stupefaction. How many years has it been since he last laid eyes on a dog? How long has it been since he'd heard the yips and barks of his own, run with them, tumbled with them, pet them and ruffled their ears and _played_ with them? A _dog_ stands before him, mighty in stature and seemingly vicious in nature, on paws easily the size of serving platters, and where others would run in terror and have their afterlife temporarily cut short, Patroclus... does not. No. Struck by momentary _insanity_ he gets to his feet slowly, careful to keep his eyes from focusing directly on any glare currently fixed upon him, angling his body so he's not facing the beast _directly_. Not that keeping note of its position and altering his own to appear non-confrontational will ensure his survival - a single bound will have it clearing the Lethe and chomping on his bones before he can so much as utter a "hello", if it so wishes.

It, apparently, _does not_ wish to eat him, initial aggression aside. Upon his soft utterance of "who's a good dog?" all three heads of the beast perk up, and there's a brief glimpse of its tail _wagging_ , before it launches itself at him.

* * *

Zagreus comes to an immediate halt with Patroclus' name little more than an indrawn breath, stopping dead in his tracks as if he'd just been introduced face first to the solid, bruising, business end of an Exalted shield. For there, rolled on his back in the ever-green grass of Patroclus' chamber, is Cerberus. All four paws aloft and kicking in delight as his full body wriggles from side to side as if he possesses no spine at all. And there, sprawled across Cerberus' ribcage and scrubbing at his furred belly for all he's worth, is the shade in question.

 _"Who's a good boy?_ Who's the friendliest boy? Who's the biggest boy I've ever seen in my _life?_ You are! Yes, you!"

_Uh..._

"Hi, Patroclus. Sir. I see you've... uh... _met_... Cerberus," yes, that sounds like an adequate greeting for such a _bizarre_ sight.

Cerberus freezes mid-wiggle, the nearest head flopping to the ground and falling sideways so it can stare at him and whine, ears tucked back in _quite_ the guilty expression. The middle head lifts upward just enough to see over its companion, not a care in the world as its maw drops open in a doggy grin, tongue lolling out between its teeth as it pants. And the third pops up even higher than the second, regarding Zagreus with a single eye before turning fully in his direction and _sneezing_ , a dismissal if ever he's seen one from his favourite hound. He is, quite frankly, _dumbstruck_. Since when has Cerberus ever accepted pets from anyone except him? _Since when?_

"Oh, but you're a sneaky traitor you are, Cerberus. Accepting belly rubs from someone else? I feel cheated on! He even has both hands, still!"

Patroclus laughs, levers up on one elbow to regard him over the tufts he's mussed Cerberus' coat into, raising a hand in greeting before dropping it back to its duty of _rubs_. One back leg starts its kick-bouncing again, and all three heads fall backward to rest on the ground upside down, wiggles resuming in full force until it's nothing short of a miracle that Patroclus remains where he is.

"Hello, stranger. Indeed, I have met the ferocious hound of the Underworld. On much better terms than my fellow shades, I might add, if the pieces I had to pick from his teeth were any indication of his opinion of us in general!"

"You... you picked _shade bits_ out of his _teeth?"_

"Aye."

"All _three sets_ of his teeth?"

"Aye."

"And you're still _alive?"_

"As I'll ever be," he sounds rather _cheerful_ about that. Zagreus approaches on quick feet, abandons his blade the moment he's across the bridge, freeing up his hands to bury them just behind the ears of the nearest head, scratching the exact way he knows Cerberus loves (well, at least this one particular head, the other two tend to get a bit _snappy)._

"He's a sucker for pets."

"That he is. All it took was a scratch under his chin and he rolled over like a very overgrown puppy. He's _delightful_ \- aren't you, boy? I even told him, if he's ever back round this way, to bring a very large stick with him next time and I'd play fetch with him. He seems most agreeable to the idea."

A round of barking follows, loud enough to temporarily deafen Zagreus where he stands, and then Cerberus is rolling over onto his stomach, narrowly avoiding squashing Patroclus beneath him as the shade jumps clear at the last moment, smile wide and carefree and Zagreus stills with his hands still outstretched for scratches, outright staring at the sight. It's the first he's seen such a smile from Patroclus. It suits him. _He should smile like that more often._

"You do realise a stick large enough for him will be an _uprooted tree_ , right?"

"I do. With any luck, he'll rip up the one Theseus favours. That should keep him shouting about something _relevant_ , for once."

At the mere mention of the king, the third of Cerberus' heads (the most grumpy one) lets out a mighty snort, nudging Patroclus so hard he almost falls over. Laughter, from both of them, and Zagreus watches as Patroclus reaches out and skims his hand up and down the snout, from the wet nose all the way up to between the eyes and back again. There's a soft whine meant for his ears alone, and warmth against both his palms as the friendliest head nudges at him, and Zagreus turns his attention to Cerberus with a genuine grin, planting a kiss right on the tip of his nose.

"I'm not jealous, boy. How could I be? You deserve all the pets in the world and more, and this way there are more than enough hands to pet all three of your heads!"

* * *

_Thanatos_ stops cold in his tracks when he finds the three of them, and such a shock is the sight it knocks him clean from the air with a _thump_.

There, motionless and half-buried under the jaw of Cerberus' friendliest head, is Zagreus. And there, propped up against the grumpy one, is Patroclus. And there, the middle head, lifting to regard the intruder as it registers the sound of his footfalls. Thanatos dismisses his scythe as he approaches, lifts bare hands to show he means no harm, and stops a respectful distance away, well aware the hound is perhaps the most _vicious_ protector of the prince when called upon.

"I was concerned when he didn't show up in another chamber, but I see he's in safe paws," he says, voice pitched low to avoid disturbing the two sleeping under Cerberus' watch. A blink is the only acknowledge he receives, but then, any noise at all from one so large would likely disturb both and have them coming up at once in preparation for a fight. Better, then, to remain quiet. "If you can keep Zagreus there for another hour or so of sleep, I'll bring a satyr sack to the house, myself, for you," a promise, one Cerberus recognises as sincere, if the sudden _gleam_ in those intelligent eyes is anything to go by.

Thanatos sighs, doomed to his fate, and gives a single wave before departing as he arrived, in a hushed breath of sound. One satyr sack for a _very_ good boy coming up.


End file.
